


First Time

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: I’m totally not projecting onto this fic prompt. How about a reader who is inexperienced but is in a relationship with Jaskier. Every time they start to get intimate she pulls away. Jaskier doesn’t push it but he’s curious. One day the reader reveals that she’s worried she’ll be a disappointment compared to all of his other lovers. Cue Jaskier showing her just how untrue that is.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	First Time

Jaskier’s soft lips sought yours, arms wrapping around you and gently pressing you against the doorframe that lead to your room. You sighed into the kiss, hands pressing against his chest and tangling in the hair that peppered it. You didn’t know which of you opened the door but you were stumbling across the threshold, giggling into the kisses that flowed from playful to passionate in harmony. It was only when you felt your back press against the familiar softness of the bed that you tensed up slightly. Jaskier felt your hesitation and pulled back.

“Are you alright?” he asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Jaskier you know how we’ve been together for some time now,” you began the speech you’d rehearsed countless times in front of the mirror.

“Four months, eight days and –” he peered at the little clock on the mantle, “Two hours, yes.”

“Yes, well in that time I know that we have likely not been as… intimate as you may be used to with a partner. And you’ve been very patient—”

“Not patient just… unhurried,” he insisted, caressing your brow and gazing at you adoringly as you spoke.

“Yes well that’s all very nice but I would like us to hurry a bit more,” you added. His eyes darkened and a hungry look came over his face.

“I can go faster,” he murmured.

“Well yes indeed however but um,” your perfect speech devolved as his mouth began grazing your collar bones but stopped before continuing, looking back to your face for permission.

“It’s just that I’ve…. Never done this,” you said nervously. You weren’t sure how he would react. He could be surprised and even disappointed, upset that he’d waited so long for someone who wouldn’t even have the experience to do all of the things he probably enjoyed. Advanced things. Flexible things. But he may also be eerily excited by it. You’d known men like that too who treated your virginity as a trophy to be claimed instead of a simple fact that had no real bearing on your worth or maturity. Jaskier didn’t respond, just continued to watch and listen as you spoke.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Tonight or tomorrow or five years from now,” he insisted. You were slightly skeptical but his words were sincere.

“I do want to do something, though, is the thing. I’m just worried that I’ll be bad at it… Especially compared to your… past… paramours,” you finished lamely, avoiding his eyes as you confessed the true root of your insecurities.

“Just so I have this clear, you do want to be intimate with me and the only thing holding you back is the fear that you will disappoint me in some way,” Jaskier said, working hard to keep the incredulity out of his voice and just barely succeeding. You nodded and you felt him chuckle softly against the bodice of your dress as he dipped his head down.

“Oh, love,” he murmured, “I meant what I said before about not rushing anything you didn’t want but with your permission I’d love to show you just how unfounded those fears are.”

You gave a slightly nervous laugh but guided him back up for a kiss before answering.

“Alright, bard, give it your best shot,” you teased.

“No, I’ll be gentle this time. But I’ll keep in mind that you said that,” he purred into your throat, lips tracing a path he knew well. You’d expected him to strip you down and get to it once you’d given him permission but he took his time and it was much like it usually was for awhile. His hands roaming your body, lips planting soft kisses wherever it could reach. He slowly worked at the laces of your bodice until it was loose enough to pull away, still not leaving you fully nude but providing easier access as his hand gently snaked beneath. His eyes watched your face carefully looking for any sign of discomfort or unease but your head fell back, lips parting slightly as a sigh that melted into a moan escape at the touch of his rough, careworn hands on your tender breasts. His hands traveled the expanse with care and then his mouth followed, the same soft kisses heightened by the sensitivity of your awakened flesh. The brush of his tongue against you made you gasp and Jaskier pulled away, looking up at your face quickly.

“You alright, love?” he asked, hands still on you.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Good,” he said, and you could feel the smirk on his lips against your stomach as he pulled away more of the fabric, leaving you half-exposed.

“Would you like to undress or would you like me to undress you?” he asked.

“Which would you rather?” you asked.

“In the end I see you naked, so I am ecstatic either way. But I asked what you want,” he said, hand toying with the belt around your skirt.

“Well while you’re down there,” you said glibly, trying to shake off some of the tension building in your body with levity.

“As you wish,” he said, and your belt was quickly undone and pulled away. Again his actions were slow, caring, and careful. He continued to kiss down your abdomen, reveling in the goosebumps that railed in his wake and the hitched breaths he could feel against his lips as he continued downward. The skirt was slid away in a single deft movement like a magician pulling a tablecloth out from under a banquet table. The cold air pricked you as the hot rush of blood covered your face as you lay there, bare to his scrutiny.

“Lovely,” he sighed, eyes roaming from your face to your feet, every inch of you greeted with the same, soft look of awe and pride.

“You’re overdressed,” you said. He quirked his eyebrow at you and a little smirk played about his lips.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Shall I change that for you?”

“Please do,” you said, your words polite but your voice taking on a regal, commanding tone that excited Jaskier more than you could know. He pulled the doublet off slowly, eyes watching your face as you tracked his progress. You admired the way the undershirt left a wide expanse of chest hair open for your admiration and your heart beat a bit quicker as you realized soon you would see more of him. All of him. Next he pulled off the boots, letting them fall by the wayside unceremoniously. He pulled at the laces of his trousers but did not let them fall, though your neck craned and watched eagerly. Instead he pulled loose the shirt that had been tucked in and removed it, leaving his broad, toned upper body bare. You’d felt his strength many times before as he danced with you and carried things for you or held you tight, but you were still somewhat taken aback by the taut, muscled arms and shoulders and chest. He waited patiently, and a little bit bashfully, as you openly gazed at him, eyes tracing every inch, eager to feel that body on you without any more layers or barriers between you. He finally reached down to his waist and in a quick movement (a very well-rehearsed one to be sure) he divested himself of both trousers and smallclothes in a single, fluid gesture. Your eyes dropped immediately and you giggled.

“Well that’s… not what I was expecting,” Jaskier said, his voice a little wounded.

“Oh gods, no, Jaskier I’m not giggling about that I just… _fuck_ ,” you sighed, trying to put all of the longing the sight of him, hard and thick and yours, filled you with.

“We’ll get there,” he teased, crawling back towards the bed and hovering over you. The warmth of his body against yours felt like a lit hearth in midwinter, warm and revitalizing and familiar. His body felt like home and you never wanted to leave it. But he was already moving away, his kisses, deepening and exploring your mouth, traveling down and away again and taking all of his delicious warmth with him. Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed a kiss to your mound, all lips and softness first but deepening this kiss soon as well, tongue just as insistent and curious and eager to taste you. You writhed under his kisses, his strong arms helping to keep your legs parted, one hand resting against yours as you clenched a fistful of sheets in your hand. You weren’t naïve or uneducated, you knew that this was something people did, but you never heard of it being done with so much enthusiasm or unabashed delight. Jaskier reveled in the feeling of you, the sounds he provoked and the soft wetness against his lips and tongue and face.

“Um, Jaskier?” you gasped out as a feeling, part-familiar, part-brand new, began to build.

“Yes?” he asked, following the word with a long, deep stroke of his tongue.

“Just- keep doing that,” you said, tangling a hand in his hair.

“Keep doing that,” he said, “Keep telling me what you want.”

“O-ok um I want, yep! That! Keep doing that that’s nice,” you babbled incoherently, your words deteriorating into sounds but still he urged you to keep guiding him until there was no need for words, the cries you made as he felt you tense and spasm against him the answer he sought.

When he rose up again, kneeling over warm, still shaking body, you thought he had never been more beautiful and you knew from the way he looked at you that he felt the same.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged. You glanced down meaningfully at the length that rested by your inner thigh, harder than before.

“Use your words,” he said, trailing his fingers against your slit teasingly.

“I want you.”

“You have me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Say it,” the words were as much a command as a plea and you knew that he needed to know that this was what you wanted, needed to feel wanted. You took a deep breath and screwed up your courage.

“I want you to bury your cock inside of me until I am screaming your name and we both cum,” you said, reciting the sentence like one may recite a primer or a poem. His mouth twitched into a smile but the feral hunger in his eyes only loomed darker.

“You are perhaps the most adorable creature I have ever met,” he sighed, taking himself in hand.

“I don’t want to be adorable, I want to be a wanton sex goddess,” you declared imperiously. You felt him at your entrance, slicked by your wetness and so warm, so solid, so close but so far.

“You can be both. You can be whatever you want to be,” he whispered the words like a secret, like a promise, like a dare.

“I want to be yours,” you sighed.

“Oh, love,” he said with a little shake of his head, “You already were.”

You felt him enter you, slowly, stretching you but not painfully. He was taking great care to watch your reaction, watch your breathing and your eyes for signs of pain. It was the sweetest torture he had ever endured and he would go through worse to ensure that this was good for you. He didn’t dare dream that he would be the only lover you had in your long life but he could make this good for you. He would.

You wrapped your legs around him, pressing him on, eager for more of him but he continued his slow pace, muttering curse words under his breath that only served to make you slicker, easing his progression until he was buried in you to the hilt.

“How are you?” he asked, holding himself still inside of you to let you adjust to the sensation.

“I thought…” you began and then trailed off. His brow furrowed in concern and he prepared to pull out. “I thought I would feel… different.”

“Different?”

“I don’t know, it’s always talked up so much… And oh gods no, Jaskier, this is… my gods it’s more than I could ever have wanted but I don’t feel… like more?” you tried to put into words the way you were feeling without downplaying the importance of the moment. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. A song to begin playing announcing your entrance to Womanhood? A royal decree that your status had switched from Virginal to Fuckable? Some sudden, unyielding, burning passion for the man that would tether your souls together forever as so many of your friends described feeling their first time? Whatever it was, you felt the same. Just more experienced. And curious about what else lay ahead.

“Nothing has truly changed, Y/N,” Jaskier said, caressing your cheek with one hand while the other held him aloft, “You have always been and will always be you. This is just something new you can experience. Like embroidery. Though with a much bigger needle if I may flatter myself.”

You broke into laughter beneath him, your shaking body shifting him in you and pulling a hungry moan from your lips.

“I need more,” you breathed.

“Tell me,” he urged, already slowly backing out of you.

“I need more,” you repeated, “Never enough of you, never, more.”

He thrust in a little bit faster, still watching carefully for signs of discomfort but you arched up to meet him and he let your mumbled words and gasps guide his pace.

“What was that you were saying about – _fuck_ – not being satisfying?” he gasped as you rolled your hips up to meeting him, spurring him onward faster.

“I’m n-not as experienced,” you said, feeling that familiar-yet-new feeling building in you again. He laughed, the sound sharp as it was forced out in a grunt.

“I have been trying very hard not to come since I first tasted you,” he breathed, watching your hands twist against the sheet and sliding one of his own into yours, “So kindly tell that little voice in your head to shut up forever. Or, if it cannot, I’ll just have to keep showing you, over and over, how wrong it is. Would you like that, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

“Show me how much you like it,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he thrust into you hard, one hand snaking down to where your bodies joined to urge you towards release with his hand. The pressure built and you felt yourself at the precipice, a beautiful, breathless, agonizing moment and you tumbled down into your release, heedless of how loud you were or if you were gripping him too tightly or anything but the feeling he drove through your body. Jaskier quickly pulled away and you felt him come against your thigh, his moans mingling with your breathless gasps before crawling up to lay next to you, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“Now, tell me,” he said, still a little breathless as you lay together.

“Tell you what?” you asked, only half-awake.

“Tell me that you know you’re not a disappointment.”

“I know I’m not a disappointment.”

“You are Aphrodite incarnate.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“You’re a wanton sex goddess.”

You preened a little at that and he peeked an eye open to catch a glimpse of the satisfied smile that settled on your lips.

“And you’re so, fucking, adorable,” he kissed the words into your shoulder.

“Fuck you,” you growled half-heartedly, curling into his arms with a yawn.

“Later, dearest, for now let’s rest.”

He hadn’t finished the words before you dozed off and he joined you soon after, lips pressed against your forehead in a kiss.


End file.
